Umaretate no Akumu
by Esse
Summary: ...End of game. And could the fayth have been any more cryptic? ...we have forgotten for so long... The Sisters could have been more helpful.


** Umaretate no Akumu **

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_**Disclaimer: **Esse owns not the incredibly cute male lead of FFX. Nor does she own the not-quite-as-cute-but-still-possessing-some-inexplicable-charm-despite-her-increasingly-annoying-obeisantness female lead. Esse will go so far as to admit she owns no one at all from FFX, and that Square's not likely to hand over rights to her any time soon. She does hope, however, that she'll be able to snag Nav when no one is looking. Esse calls dibs, folks!_

_** Notes: **Esse has just finished playing the game. Esse is depressed. Esse is in denial. Esse is going to be slapped by the Ogre if she keeps referring to herself in the third-person. Esse thinks it just might be worth it THWAP! or maybe not ^^;;_

_** Secondary Notes:** This isn't what I think happened. This is just an evil idea that popped into my head, and wouldn't let me sleep until I'd written it into submission._

_** Spoilers: **For the end of the game, yep yep! And, ah I guess if you haven't gone back and talked to the fayth after crushing Sin like the over-grown guppy he is Some of the text is taken from their babbling._

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It was warm, there in the water. The water -- more salty than sweet, more heated than tepid, like tears freshly fallen from a smooth-cheeked face. They'd said -- said, that if he ran past the waking, and walked into the light, that, perhaps, they'd summon a sea within a new dream. A new sea for him to swim. The fayth had never said it would be an ocean of tears. 

He'd thought he'd found solace; Auron, Braska -- Jecht. They'd been waiting for him, proving beyond doubt that he was more than a dream. Reality had brushed by him, had left something of itself behind to shelter in his being; it would not fade away. He would not fade; not into Spira's sea, not into Spira's sky. He would *be,* somewhere, somehow; the fayth had all but promised. 

But then he'd felt a calling, a pulling of his soul, if a dream given life given death could lay claim to such. It pulled, it twisted, it *hurt* deep down in his chest, and in the tips of his fingers and toes. He curled around his pain, and it numbed. And Braska -- was there no longer. And neither was Jecht. And though he reached out, Auron too slipped from his fingers, so that all he had left to hold onto was himself. 

So he did. Held on with numb arms encircling numb legs around the core of ache that still existed in his center. Till it, too, dulled. And he noticed the water was warm. 

He stretched; a child waking up from a pleasant dream, or a dream returning from an unpleasant reality. Salt sting tingled his lips, but not unpleasantly so. He smiled against the sensation, as he smiled in defiance of the worst and best life had to offer. And he swam, upwards, onwards -- for there was nothing else to do. 

Yet, try as he might, he could find no surface to break. The gleaming light grew no closer; the shadows lurking in the depths grew no darker. He began to fear. He could not move forward. He could not move back. 

Then she appeared. 

"Yuna!" He turned to face her, or the universe spun on its axis to bring her in front of him. "What how?" He reached out again, but she was just beyond his grasp. 

She smiled, only the faintest upturning of her lips, for all of her emotion resided in her eyes. "I -- could not. The one that I had lost my dream that had faded; I could not forget. I could not let Spira forget. The one that saved it. You." The words hung in the cloudy water stilted, but heartfelt. "You" 

"I don't understand." He tried swimming forward, but remained fixed in place. "You're here, with me here What is this place?" 

"I know -- it's not your Zanarkand, but it's the best I could do." She ducked her head, while her hands fluttered against the printed cotton of her obi. "I was afraid I had lost you. I whistled -- but you did not come. I was -- so afraid!" 

He longed to comfort her, if only he could find some way to cross the intervening space. "But you found me, right? We're here," and he shrugged, while his eyes struggled to spot anything in the luke-warm sea, "right?" 

She shook her head, and her beaded lock of hair slapped against her shoulder. "I was afraid the fayth had -- forgotten their promise. To you. So" And she finally looked up, and her eyes, leaf-green and lapis-blue both, flickered with some terrible idea withheld. "So I dreamt you an ocean, to swim in." 

His response was muted; weighted down in the salt-tainted water. "What?" 

"I went back, to the ruined dome, at Zanarkand. Nothing -- is ever lost, there. I searched its memories. Memories of Yunalesca. Memories of how she changed Zaon into her fayth." She blinked, and there was no difference between the salt of her tears, and the brine of the water. "Memories, even, of how Yu Yevon" 

"Yuna" He wanted her not to continue; he wanted her closer, he wanted her gone, he wanted to be back with Braska and Auron, and even, briefly, Jecht. 

"Yevon summoned, and the fayth dreamed, and together they recreated Zanarkand, you know?" 

"I know." 

"I wanted -- not nearly so much." She looked incomplete, without her staff in her hands. "Just you." 

He would have liked to curl back in on himself; the water felt cooler than it had before, and while the light was no dimmer, the depths seemed far blacker. He knew, now, that something had gone horribly, terribly wrong. 

"Dona -- helped me. She'd watched the memories, as well, when she'd been in Zanarkand. The people of Spira -- they remember. It is close enough to summoning. And they will not forget. Yevon needed to become immortal. Our -- legend -- will be immortality enough, I think. As long as people remember -- I will keep dreaming." 

He pulled his arms in close to his sides, and closed his eyes. "You're a fayth, now, aren't you? Like Seymour's mother?" 

"Yes, I am." 

"And you dream -- of me?" 

She nodded, and strands of water-darkened hair fell across her face. 

"You dreamt me a new sea to swim in" His voice cracked, and he began crying. It was all he could effectively do. 

"I didn't think it would be like this." She wrung her hands together, twisting the material of her sleeves between them. "I was only thinking of what the fayth had said. If I had known" 

"I want to go back, Yuna." Gold-drenched locks hung limply down, for there was no current to stir them. "I don't like it here. I want back, with your father, and Auron, and and even my old man. I think I could be happy, there." 

"I -- can't. I can't let you go." Her body shook with sobs, but the sea snatched away any tears she might have shed. "I've tried. But I can't wake up. As long -- as people remember me -- I *can't* wake up!" 

"So what you're saying is, we're stuck here?" 

She hunched frail shoulders, and would not answer. 

"With me here, and you over there? As long as enough people believe in you to maintain the summoning?" 

"Yes. I'm sorry. I wanted -- to do so much more for you. But I was not strong enough to dream of a bigger sea." She reached out, and he reached out, and almost they could touch. "Can you forgive me?" 

A long eternity passed before he could give her an answer. And an even longer eternity was spent staring at one another, once they were past the point where words ran out altogether. 

And eventually they could no longer tell if they hung suspended in the center of a warm, briny ocean, or dwelt in a sea of their tears. 

** ~*~ **

_**Parting shots: **Writing dialogue in character is -- so -- hard. They all speak -- so -- slow. In a feeble attempt to -- match -- words -- with -- lip move~~~ments. You know? I'm still fitting plot elements from the game together in my head. I'm *really* interested on what's on that second disc in the international version. ::sighs:: Guess I'll just have to wait the two weeks ah, almost one week, now!_

_ I know lots and lots of people feel that Tidus is alive at the end of the game. I'm one of them. Most of the time. Except for when I'm in a particularly morbid mood. Then stuff like this leaks outta me._

_ So, hated the ficcie and want to consign my debateable soul to the confines of hell? Please contact the Ogre first, as she'll likely want to consign you in return. Could care less about the ficcie, but still feel like cussin' Esse out on general principle? Ah, the Ogre can handle that as well. On the other hand, if'n you just wanna gab about ffx, and possibilities on Tidus' resurrection -- those you can send to me =) Otherwise, have a wonderful day, and may you have spent much less time trying to beat Nemesis than I have._


End file.
